


untitled

by cloudedhue



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 11:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudedhue/pseuds/cloudedhue
Summary: CW for very depressed, suicidal thoughts and implied suicide.





	untitled

I am sinking. It is not something I see, but something I feel. The air around me seems to falter, there is a pressure building up inside of me. _ Do not fear _, I tell myself-- it will explode soon.

_ I am leaving soon. _

I can feel rivers on my face, though my skin feels numb at the touch. I can barely register any sounds coming from the busy streets, however, the view... I am almost glad I came here.

_ I will miss them. _

Jumping is definitely not me. I came here not by choice, but I do intend to leave by it. Letting the petals of roses that flow through my arms be free seems more like a fitting choice.

_ I am not sorry. _

Drifting might be the right word for this. Though I was never good with them- words, it always seemed like they liked to drown me. Maybe they did at the end, I suppose.

_ Even if it's just a lie. _

That is why, when the time for goodbyes came, I could not say much. Is that why they did not listen? Is that why they only smiled and nodded, as if they understood? In the end, I never answered because they never asked. 

_ Don't be so pretentious. _

I tried to be good with words. Ever since I was little, they used to say I was gifted, but gifts only happen when you are young. The bills for them are handed over to our future selves, so we end up paying for the expectations that others put into us. I am doing that- I am paying back.

_ Sorry. _

In the end, everything can be reduced into words. It only seems fitting that the world's last moments are reduced into words as well. So when everything is blurry, everything is quiet and everything is slowly descending, I still have my words. My last words, from me to myself, as it always should have been.

And for the tiniest of moments, I feel a spark of life. I feel free. I feel brave and energetic. And for just one second, which feels like a day, I feel pure joy. I wondered if maybe death is finding things we lost. Or things we thought we had lost. Though everything faded to darkness before I could get an answer. I never thought explosions could be so quiet.


End file.
